The Cromptons Part 23

"I don't see how Amy could have done it," the Colonel said to himself when the dray disappeared from view, and then becoming conscious of the pain in his foot, he dragged himself back to his chair, and ringing for Peter, said to him: "I think I'll lie down a spell,--and, bring me a hot-water bag, I'm pretty cold, and my foot just jumps; and, Peter, go to-day and buy those things as if they were for yourself. You mustn't lie, of course,--but get 'em somehow, and bring them here to this big closet. The chances are when Mrs. Amy comes to her senses she'll want 'em, and raise Ned, as she used to. I'd give a good deal to see her in a tantrum. I'd rather have her that way than pa.s.sive, as she is now. Will nothing ever rouse her out of her apathy? Curse that Homer Smith!"

He was talking to himself rather than to Peter, who got him on to the lounge, adjusted the cus.h.i.+ons, brought a hot-water bag, covered him up, and then left him, saying, "Don't fret, I'll go this afternoon and get Judy and Mandy Ann by fair means or foul."

"All right," the Colonel said drowsily. "Fair means or foul, but don't lie, and don't let them think they are for me. _You_ want them, and must get them, fair means or foul. You know where my purse is. Hold your tongue, and go!"

CHAPTER XIV

THE FIRST SALE

Order was being brought out of chaos in the Rummage rooms, where twenty ladies were working industriously, sorting, pricing, and marking the mult.i.tudinous articles heaped upon the counters. Not only District No.

5, but the village had emptied itself, glad to be rid of the acc.u.mulations of years. Nearly every room was occupied, and the committees were showing great skill in a.s.signing things to the different departments. The antiques had a niche by themselves; the quill wheel, the warming-pan, the foot-stove, the bra.s.s kettle with Peter's boot-jack, and many more articles of a similar character were placed together. Jack's sister had responded quickly, and a large box had arrived with articles curious and new, which elicited cries of delight from the ladies in charge, who marked them at a ridiculously low price, less even, in some instances, than had been paid for them, and labelled their corner "The New York Store."

Scarcely was this completed when the drayman arrived from Crompton Place with the doll house and the two trunks, the last of which were pounced upon first, as Ruby Ann had reported what was in them. Her description, however, had fallen far short of the reality, and the ladies held their breath, as one after another of the beautiful gowns was taken out for exhibition. Few had ever seen anything just like them. Homer Smith had prided himself upon being a connoisseur in ladies' costumes and had directed all of Amy's, taking care that there was no sham about them.

Everything was real, from the fabric itself to the lace which trimmed it, and which alone had cost him hundreds of dollars. And now they were at a Rummage Sale, and the managers did not know what to do with them.

It was scarcely possible that any one would buy them, and it would be greatly out of place to exhibit them in the dry-goods department with Mrs. Biggs's brown and white spotted gown which she had contributed rather unwillingly, insisting that it should not be sold for less than a dollar. Ruby Ann suggested that they be carefully folded in boxes and laid away by themselves for inspection by any one who had a thought of buying them. If they did not sell, and probably they would not, they were to be returned either to Amy or to the Colonel,--the latter most likely, as Amy had expressed so strong a desire to be rid of them. Her suggestion was acted upon, and the dresses laid aside, and the attention of the managers turned to the doll house and its occupants, Mandy Ann and Judy, the latter of whom was greeted with shrieks of laughter.

Here was something that would sell, but what price to put upon it was a puzzle. No one had any idea of the original cost. Mrs. Biggs, who had joined the working force and whose voice was loudest everywhere, suggested ten dollars, with the privilege of falling, but was at once talked down, as low prices were to be the rule for everything, and five was quite enough. There were few who would pay that for a mere plaything for their children, so the card upon it was marked five dollars, with the addition that it had once belonged to Mrs. Amy Crompton Smith. It was then placed conspicuously in a window before which a group of eager, excited children gathered, and to which early in the afternoon Peter came leisurely.

The Colonel had asked him several times why he didn't go, and had finally grown so petulant that Peter had started, wondering how much he'd have to pay and what excuse he was to make for wanting it himself.

His instructions were not to lie, but get it somehow without using the Colonel's name. Finding Ruby Ann alone, he began, "I say, do you make any sales before the thing opens?"

"Why, yes, we can," Ruby answered. "Several antiques are promised, if not actually sold, your boot-jack with the rest. Could sell another if we had it. Any particular thing you want?"

"Yes, I want that house in the window and the two women in it,--Mandy Ann and Judy. It's marked five dollars. Here's your money," and he laid a crisp five-dollar bill in her hand.

"Why, Peter,--why, Peter," Ruby exclaimed in surprise, with a sense of regret that more had not been asked, and a feeling of wonder as to why Peter wanted it. "Are you buying it for yourself?" she asked, and Peter replied, "Who should I buy it for? I knew Mrs. Amy when she was a little girl and played with it and slept with that n.i.g.g.e.r baby Judy. I've bought it. It's mine, and I'll take it right away. There's a drayman now, bringing a worn-out cook-stove and an old lounge."

"Oh, but, Peter,--please leave it till the sale is over. It draws people to look at it, and then they'll come in," Ruby said, while others of the ladies joined their entreaties with hers.

But Peter was firm. He had bought the doll house and paid for it. It was his, and in spite of the protests of the entire committee which gathered round him like a swarm of bees he took it away, and an hour later it was safely deposited in the Colonel's room without Amy's knowledge. The Colonel was delighted.

"Bring it close up," he said, "but first take off that infernal card that it belonged to 'Mrs. Amy Crompton Smith.' That's the way they'd marked my trousers! Give me Mandy Ann and Judy. I haven't seen them in more than twenty years,--yes, nearer thirty. Upon my soul they wear well, especially the old lady. She was never very handsome, but Amy liked her best," he said, laughing a little as Peter put Judy in his lap.

He did not know that he had ever touched her before, and he held her between his thumb and finger, with something which felt like a swelling in his throat,--not for Judy, nor for Amy, but for poor Dory, thoughts of whom were haunting him these days with a persistency he could not shake off.

"What did you give?" he asked, and Peter replied. "Five dollars,--just what it was marked."

"Five dollars! Heavens and earth!" and Judy fell to the floor, while the Colonel grasped his knees with his hands and sat staring at Peter. "Five dollars! Are you an idiot, and have none of them common sense?" he asked, and Peter replied, "That was the price, and I didn't like to beat them down."

Ruby Ann isn't easy to tackle, and Mrs. Biggs was there with her gab, if she is my niece, and said I got it dirt cheap."

"Go to thunder with your Ruby Ann and Mrs. Biggs and dirt cheap!" the Colonel roared. "Who said I wanted you to beat 'em down? Why, man, I told you I gave thirty for the house and five for Mandy Ann, and here they have sold the whole caboodle, Judy and all, for five dollars! Five dollars! Do you hear? Five dollars, for what cost thirty-five! I consider they've insulted Mandy Ann and Judy both. Five dollars! I'll be--"

He didn't finish his sentence, for he heard Amy's voice in the hall. She might be coming, and he said hastily to Peter, "Put them in the closet.

Don't let her see them, or there'll be the old Harry to pay."

Peter obeyed, but Amy did not come in, and after a moment the Colonel continued, "We will keep them here a while. I dare say she'll never think of them again. She doesn't think much. Do you believe she will ever be any better?"

The Colonel's voice shook as he asked the question, and Peter's shook a little as he replied, "Please G.o.d she may. A great shock of some kind might do it."

"Yes, but where is the shock to come from, hedged round as she is from every rough wind or care?" the Colonel said, little thinking with what strides the shock was hastening on, or through what channel it was to come.

CHAPTER XV

AT THE RUMMAGE

The rooms were ready at last, and twenty tired ladies went through them to see that every thing was in its proper place, and then went home with high antic.i.p.ations of the morrow and what it would bring. It opened most propitiously and was one of those soft, balmy September days, more like early June than autumn. There were brisk sales and crowds of people all day, with the probability of greater crowds and brisker sales in the evening. Jack Harcourt was in and out, watching the sale of what his sister had sent, drinking cups of chocolate every time a pretty girl asked him to do so, and buying toys and picture books and candy, and distributing them among the children gathered around the door and windows. He thought he had looked at everything on sale, but had failed to find the white ap.r.o.n. Where was it? he wondered. He would not ask Ruby Ann or Mrs. Biggs, as that would be giving himself away. It would certainly be there in the evening when he was to bring Eloise in her chair. He had settled that with Tim, who gave up rather unwillingly, but was consoled by being hired as errand boy,--an office he could not have filled had he been hampered with a wheel chair.

The night was glorious, with a moon near its full, and a little before seven Jack presented himself at Mrs. Biggs's, finding Eloise ready and alone. Tim was at the rooms, running hither and thither at everybody's beck and call, and his mother was there, running the whole thing,--judging from her manner as she moved among the crowd filling the rooms nearly to suffocation. Eloise had more than once changed her mind about going, as she sat waiting for Jack. She was shy with strangers, and there would be so many there, and she would be so conspicuous in her chair, with Mr. Harcourt in attendance, that she began to doubt the propriety of going.

"If it were Tim who was to take me, I believe I should feel differently," she was thinking, when Jack came in, breezy and excited,--full of the Rummage and anxious to be off.

"You are ready, I see," he said. "That's right. We have no time to lose.

And there's no end of fun. I've been there half the day, and drank chocolate, and eaten cake and candy till I never want to see any more.

But you will."

He was adjusting her dress and getting the chair in motion as he talked, and Eloise had no time to suggest that she ought not to go, before she found herself out upon the piazza, and Jack, who had locked the door, was putting the key under the mat.

"You see I remember where I found it that time Howard and I desiccated the Sabbath by calling upon you," he said, with a laugh in which Eloise joined.

"Is Mr. Howard going?" she asked, and Jack replied, "He is a kind of lazy fellow, but he'll be there all right;" and the first one they saw distinctly as they drew near the house was Howard, struggling with the crowd.

Howard had gone down on purpose to see Eloise, and was wondering how with her chair she could ever be gotten through that ma.s.s of people, when she appeared at the door, and, with Howard, wondered how she was to get in. She might not have accomplished it if he had not come to the rescue with two boys,--one Tim Biggs, the other a tall, freckled-faced, light-haired fellow whom Jack greeted as Tom, saying, "Can you manage to find a good position for Miss Smith?"

"You bet," came simultaneously from both boys, and immediately four sharp elbows were being thrust into the sides of the people, who moved all they could and made a pa.s.sage for Eloise and her chair near the middle of the room, and in a comparatively sheltered place where she could see everything without being jostled.

If she could see everything and everybody, so everybody could see her, and for a moment there was a hush in the large room where every eye was turned upon Eloise, who began to feel very uncomfortable, and wish she had not come. She had wondered what she ought to wear, and had decided upon black as always suitable. When she left California her mother had urged her to take a small velvet cape lined with ermine. It was the only expensive article of dress she had, and she was very choice of it, but to-night she wore it about her shoulders, as later the air was inclined to blow up cool and damp from the sea. Just as they reached the house Jack stooped to arrange it, throwing it back on either side so that more of the ermine would show.

"There! You look just like a queen! Ermine is very becoming to you," he said, and the people staring at her thought so, too.

Her head was uncovered, and her hair, which waved softly around her forehead, was wound in a flat knot low in her neck, making her look very young, as she sat shrinking from the fire of eyes directed towards her and saw, if she did not hear, the low whispers of the people, many of whom had never seen her before, and were surprised at her extreme youth and beauty. Ruby Ann was at a distance, trying to sell Mrs. Biggs's spotted brown and white wrapper to a scrub woman who was haggling over the price which Mrs. Biggs had insisted should be put upon it. That good woman was busy in the supper-room, or she would have made her way at once to Eloise, who, as she looked over the sea of faces confronting her, saw no one she knew except Howard Crompton, who had been very uncomfortable in the heat and air of the place until she came, and with her fresh, fair young face seemed at once to change the whole atmosphere. Jack, who was not used to much exertion and had found even Eloise's light weight a trifle heavy, especially up the hill near the Rummage house, was sweating at every pore, and fanning himself with a palm leaf he had bought at the entrance.

"By George!" he said to Howard, who was standing by them. "It's hotter than a furnace in here. I believe I'll have to go outside and cool off a minute, if you'll stay and keep guard over Miss Smith."

"Certainly;--with pleasure," Howard said, putting his hand on Eloise's chair and asking if there was anything he could do for her.

She was watching the brown and white spotted gown, and to Howard's question she shook her head, while he continued, "Jack says the chocolate is pretty fair. He ought to know--he has drank six cups. I am going to bring you some."

Before she could protest that she did not care for chocolate, he left her and his place was at once taken by the tall, lank, light-haired boy, whose elbows had done so good execution in forcing a pa.s.sage for the chair. Tom had been watching her ever since she came in, and making up his mind. He had heard she was pretty, but that did not begin to express his opinion of her, as she sat with the ermine over her shoulders, the soft sheen on her hair, the bright color on her cheeks, and a look in her eyes which fascinated him, boy though he was, as it did many an older man, from Mr. Bills to Jack, and Howard Crompton. If his two chips had not been thrown away he would have thrown them now, and still the feeling in him which people called _cussedness_ was so strong that he could not repress a desire "to see what stuff she was made off."

Taking Howard's vacant place he pushed himself forward until he was nearly in front of her, where he could look into her face. She recognized him as the boy Jack had called Tom, and guessed who he was,--her eyes drooping under his rather bold gaze, and her color coming and going. Tom was not sure what he was going to say to her, and could never understand why he said what he did. He had been told so often by Mr. Bills and others that he needed _licking_, and so many teachers had _licked_ him, to say nothing of his drunken father, that the idea was in his mind, but as something wholly at variance with this dainty little girl, who at last looked at him fearlessly. She knew he was going to speak to her, but was not prepared for his question.